


Aluminum

by KittyCatriona (War_Worn_Lipstick)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Just Friends, M/M, Phil's POV, a little fluff, a little tension, bros, i may have used this as a way to vent about how much i hate tin-hatting phan, platonic, sorry - Freeform, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 09:05:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_Worn_Lipstick/pseuds/KittyCatriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan gets a bit bitter when people make assumptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aluminum

**Author's Note:**

> ...ignore this.
> 
> also sorry about the title it's all i could think of
> 
> also sorry it's unedited
> 
> also sorry it's super lame and short
> 
> idk what the hell this is tbh

Dan was quick to laugh, quick to turn an awkward situation into a joke. Dan’s smile was the kind that made others smile back. He would look down at you and tilt his head just a little, and his lips would edge up as he listened to you speak, and suddenly it was like your every word was magnetic and you had meaning because Dan cared. Dan really cared. 

He was sunlight happy, he was refreshing rain happy. His happy was a shit-eating grin and wheezing, endless laughter. It made me happy that Dan was always so happy.

Except sometimes he wasn’t. 

Dan could fall into despair, and when he did, he was quick to cry, quick to snap or bark or bite or bruise. Dan’s eyes were the kind that could flash. He would look down at you and tilt his head just a little, and his lips would edge up as he listened to you speak, and suddenly it was like your every word was meaningless and you were useless because Dan didn’t care. Dan really, really didn’t care. 

Today he was not caring because I’d accidentally made an innuendo on the radio. I’d known right after I’d said it, and I’d tried to laugh it off, but Dan had just looked down and away with a grimace. He bounced back after a beat with witty banter and a smile. He was always rather quick to do that. 

But I knew him well and I could tell that the rest of the jokes for the show were a tiny bit forced, that his smile didn’t quite touch his eyes in the buttery, chocolately way that it usually did. We closed up the show about ten minutes later, said our goodbyes, and caught a taxi home. In silence. Dan was turned away from me in his seat under the guise of staring out the window. But he had that blank stare like he wasn’t really seeing anything that passed by.

Back in our flat he dropped the keys onto the counter, made us both a cup of hot chocolate, and then pointedly took his to his room and slammed the door. I sighed. I hadn’t meant to say anything suggestive—it just happened sometimes (a lot of the times) to me. Usually Dan was pretty okay with dealing with that kind of stuff, but there were always times where Dan slipped back into his fearful, 2012 mindset and regarded me with crude caution. 

He’d probably read something online last night that’d pissed him off, some stupid, tin-hatting Phan theory with no real basis. Or maybe he’d seen a photo set of “Heart Eyes Howell,” which I knew tended to set him off. 

“I can look at my best friend,” he’d say, and I’d agree half-heartedly. I always tried not to comment much when he went on these rants, for fear of saying the wrong thing. “Have they never had close friends before? We should be able to touch in public without getting goddamn crucified.”

I’d shrug or nod and mumble something about how most friends share food, most friends hug and smile at each other, to appease him. 

Eventually he’d sigh and lean into my arm and give it up for the night. 

Anyways, around seven in the evening he came back out of his room and plopped beside me on the couch. Rubbing his eye, he said, “Let’s watch a movie—but not any of your stupid rom-com shit.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, but not any of your indie stuff, either.” 

“Great,” he said. “That leaves musicals.” 

“There are more genres than rom-com, indie, and musicals, Dan,” I snorted. 

Dan looked at me with feigned disbelief. “Oh, yeah? Name one.” 

“I could name thirty,” I crossed my arms. 

“So do it, I’ll count.” 

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, suddenly running a complete blank. Dan was already laughing by the time I managed to get out “action.”

“Christ, Phil,” he said, slipping down the sofa towards me. When his head landed against my shoulder he added, “Don’t know why I even bother with you.”

“Because I’m charming,” I nodded, feeling much better now that Dan was genuinely smiling again, “and affluent.”

“Affluent?” Dan sputtered, “Really Phil?”

“Quite affluent, I’d say.” I dropped my head atop his. “You smell nice,” I noted. 

He hummed. “I think I used your shampoo this morning.”

“Rude,” I said. 

There was a long silence while we just sat together, close and warm, happy in each other’s presence. Eventually Dan sighed. 

“Sorry I’m so bitter all the time,” he said. 

I shook my head. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t mean to take things out on you.” 

“I get it,” I said. 

“Doesn’t mean you deserve it,” he said. 

I shrugged and he mumbled a quiet, nearly nonsensical complaint about pillows that move. I giggled and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. 

We stayed like that for awhile before Dan groaned. “Who’s gonna pick a movie and put it in?” 

“I don’t wanna get up,” I frowned. 

“Me neither,” he said. 

We didn’t end up watching a movie, instead talking until we fell asleep, still curled together on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Read my others. They're better lol


End file.
